


Where Winds Blow Wild

by riotouscorgi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22207003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riotouscorgi/pseuds/riotouscorgi
Summary: Post-TLJ canonverse divergence Inspired by the lovely crawl made from twitter user@HazelMonforton:The galaxy grieves. General Leia Organa, hero of the rebellion and leader of the RESISTANCE, has died. Acting General Poe Dameron has established a base of operations on the jungle planet Ajan Kloss. In an attempt to rebuild their fleet, he dispatches trusted agents to form new alliances across the galaxy.As more rebel planets rise to oppose him, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren rules a fractured empire, with the FIRST ORDER facing dissent from within its own ranks. His power threatened, he tightens his grip on the worlds under his control. But his search for Rey, the last hope of the Jedi, distracts him from his sinister aims.With no one left to guide her, Rey searches for purpose in the ruins of Jedi temples described by their sacred texts. But a sinister voice from the unknown regions has reached her, promising the answers she seeks...
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title was a line from the Zeydel translation of Goethe's “Erlkönig," which has baby Ben Solo energy.

# Where Winds Blow Wild

## Chapter 1

It wasn't quiet in the jungle, but it was peaceful. The air felt sticky, heavy as Rey trudged through it, brushing hanging branches and loping vines aside. She was about an hour's walk away from the base.

She emerged from the heavy growth to a rocky cliff, an overhang with a view of endless greenery. Rey breathed out heavily through her nose. A contented sigh. She set her staff down against a boulder and slung her pack around to her front, rummaging absentmindedly while she took in the view. The cliff had quickly become a sanctuary since her arrival on Ajan Kloss almost a week earlier. Pulling a worn leather-bound text from the bag, she sat on the ground near her staff and leaned against the boulder.

Rey flipped through the pages, looking for where she had left off. The book, a text stolen from the Jedi temple at Ahch-To, was detailing lightsaber construction. _Rescued,_ Rey thought, was probably a better characterization. Rey wished Master Luke had been able to give her guidance himself. The text would have to do. She rustled again through her bag as her eyes darted across the pages. She pulled out a firm pink fruit she had also rescued, though this time from the base's kitchen earlier that morning. It crunched loudly when she bit into it, adding to the cacophony of birds and insects.

The sounds blended together and faded from her notice as she became more engrossed with the instructions before her. She was so absorbed she didn't notice the telltale hum and hush that heralded a moment of connection. It took her several minutes to look up, feeling watched.

She met dark eyes. She thought she saw something like <em> _softness </em> _in them, but they quickly narrowed, guarded, passing through something like surprise on the way. He was sitting upright on a rock a few feet in front of her. Likely he was at a desk on his side of the connection. The Supreme Leader must be busy. She held his gaze, wide-eyed, for a moment. Then she pursed her lips and looked pointedly away. This hadn't happened since Crait. Then there was no time to talk. Now she felt there was nothing to say.

“Where are you?” he broke the silence in a much more measured voice than Rey had expected.

She turned back to him and raised her chin, “I can hardly be expected to have better information than the First Order's best scouts.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then he looked down and took a deep breath.

“I felt her go,” he whispered and stared at his gloved hands clasped in his lap.

Rey stared at them too, tears welling as she remembered General Organa's passing.

“I'm so sorry, Ben.” She looked up to his face earnestly. He was exhausted. He stayed fixed on his hands.

Silence.

“We did everything we could...and it was very peaceful,” Rey murmured. The explosion on the bridge and her time floating in space had taken a heavy toll on Leia's body. There was only so much medical help she could get on the cruiser, and it had helped her recover enough to command when the Resistance was desperate. Energy spent and body failing, she had deteriorated quickly after Crait.

“Ben,” Rey looked at him intently, “she still wanted you to come home. In the end, that's all she wanted. Ben, please.”

Kylo Ren glared back up at Rey. She saw fire in his eyes. She felt fire in the bond that connected them. He rose to his feet.

“I am going to find you, _scavenger,_ ” he hissed as he raised his finger to point at her, closing the distance between them in long strides, “and I am going to _end_ the Resistance. I told you: it's time to let old things die.”

Rey's mouth filled with bitter taste. “That's some big Solo energy,” she spat back.

A hum, a crackle, and the return of jungle sounds. Rey was left alone again.

She threw the tome back into her bag, snatched her staff, and began to tramp back to the base. It was hurt she had seen in his eyes, she realized. So much like his plaintive look on Crait.

“Emotionally stunted,” grumbled Rey as she hacked through the undergrowth. She was creating her own frontage path parallel to the normal route, venting the frustration bubbling over by bushwhacking with her quarterstaff. “Selfish. Immature!” She screamed.

It was moments like this, vision tinged red, blood hot, pulse pounding in her ears, that the voice came to her. It was different than when Ben— _Kylo_ , she reminded herself—came to her. When he connected with her, the world seemed to close in around them, sharpening her senses. When the voice crept in, there was a dullness that melded everything together. Anger with Kylo lit her on fire; the voice smothered the flame. This felt like the safe thing to do, and she trusted the voice. It had come to soothe her after she had rejected Kylo on the _Supremacy_. _Good girl,_ it had whispered, and murmured assurances that a Sith would never tell her the truth about her parents.

Rey had read in the sacred texts about the ability of Jedi to manifest themselves through the force beyond death: ghosts, projections, voices. Her heart had leaped, realizing she could have guidance from beyond. Someone to show her a place in all this. So she had leaned into this voice.

She listened when it came to her here in the jungle, soothing the raging flames in her to glowing coals. _Ungrateful boy_ , it whispered. _He has had everything you have ever wanted. Parents, a home. And he rejected them, just as he rejected your friendship. Life handed to him on a silver platter, and the spoiled boy throws it on the floor. It must be an affront to your pain._

Rey wiped her nose on her tunic sleeve. _Yes,_ she responded.

_He seems so lonely, doesn't he? A chosen loneliness, then; no one knows loneliness better than you, Rey, but he denied you when you offered what you wish someone had given you. He cannot understand your ache._

Rey listens to the voice all the way back to the base, her embers burning steadily as the sun dipped low in the sky.

“Would it helped if I grabbed you a shovel?”

Finn looked up, fork in mouth, cheeks bulging. Poe continued staring at him, hands on either side of his plate, his own breakfast forgotten for the moment.

Rey snorted and smiled, chewing her food eagerly.

Finn gulped down a choking amount of food, “ _You_ ,” and he turned pointedly at Rey, “are no better than I am here.”

He turned back to Poe, who rolled his eyes and tucked in. It was apparent Poe has spent many meals discussing strategy with the late General. Her table manners must have been elegant and were obviously catching.

Rey and Poe were a different breed of eater though and unaffected by Poe's poise. Finn was plainly relishing his break from strictly regimented and portioned meals as a Stormtrooper. Rey ate with the ferocity of a lifetime with gnawing hunger.

“I've gotta go see Rose. She's probably awake by now, and they might let her out of medical today,” Finn said through his food. “Would you pack this away for me?”

Rey nodded, and he pushed his plate to her, licked his fingers as he nodded goodbye and stood, then dashed off to one of the other dining rooms of the _Tantive IV_ that had been repurposed into a medical wing. No one had come to their aid on Crait, but a sympathetic friend had returned Leia's long-lost corvette to the Resistance not long after the battle. It was now serving manifold roles at their primitive base.

Word of the upset in First Order leadership was spreading, as was word of the Resistance's defiance and escape. There were rumors of Stormtrooper defections in wake of Finn's victory over Phasma. Communiques offering to bring support to Leia had begun trickling in slowly at first, but it had become a small but steady stream.

Poe's eyes trailed after Finn in a somber reverie. Rey watched as he came back to himself, eyes snapping back to his food.

“I have a lot of messages to answer today,” he said abruptly, “I should go too.”

Rey reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “I can take care of your plate and things,” she said gently.

He looked into her eyes and after a pause, nodded. “Thanks,” he said. He stood and turned quickly and strode off to the command center.

Rey and Poe weren't confidantes, but their mutual love for Finn had brought them together instantly. They respected each other. She respected his military cunning and bravery and he her ready kindness and agility in battle. They recognized their own obstinacy in each other, which helped and hindered their friendship in turns.

She had dispatched her own servings readily and now picked at the scraps Finn and Poe had left behind. Her scavenger instinct was loathe to allow wasted food. Besides, she was still hungry. She nibbled on crusts as she read once more from the book pulled from her bag.

She had been thinking of disassembling her quarterstaff to remake the saber. The metal shroud of Anakin's lightsaber had broken and the wiring had all but exploded, but the kyber was intact. Her mind flitted to Kylo's crossguard; she supposed the crystal would have been usable even if it had broken. A stable crystal was probably easier to work with, she reasoned to herself, pulling away from thoughts of the Supreme Leader. She returned to parsing the ancient verbiage, smashing crumbs to her fingertips and licking them off. After a few minutes, she gave up, frustrated. She stacked the plates and made her way to the kitchen.

Mind on the unintelligible text, she scrubbed the plates with abandon in the ship's kitchen sink. She was back on Jakku, scouring metal junk under the blistering sun.

She felt the stillness suddenly, taking her out of the memory. It was already silent, but now it felt more still. She whipped around.

This time, _he_ was the one who didn't realize what was happening. She watched him as he sat at a table in the middle of the kitchen, scarfing down a meal. He ate his food like he was punishing it for disappointing him. Maybe it had. He was engrossed anyway.

Kriff, she thought, he's worse than Finn. Clearly dinners with his own mother didn't rub off on him.

She realized abruptly that maybe he didn't have many.

Her face softened, and he looked up. Startled, he swallowed. She hardened her eyes, embarrassed to be caught feeling sorry for this man. Without breaking eye contact, he stood up.

The Force hummed like the reverberations after the strike of a gong. He was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey herself had stuck to a beer and had only taken a few contemplative sips, but Rose was absolutely soused by the time she joined her. Rose was so full of life, Rey mused, as the former tittered at the holographic figures on the Dejarik board. Rey admired how she threw herself wholeheartedly into everything she did, even drinking with a crewmate.
> 
>  _It must have been hard to leave someone behind._ Rey ruminated on what Rose had said. Yes, it had been hard. She had wanted to take Ben's hand. More than anything. He had literally offered her the galaxy. And belonging. And love. She swirled the drink around her mouth. He hadn't really offered those things. He had dangled them in front of her, impossibly out of reach. She couldn't live with herself if she had accepted ruling at his side. He was selfish and he was thoughtless.
> 
> And she was so, so lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kindness on the previous chapter. Hope you enjoy xo

## Chapter 2

Kylo Ren's black cape whipped after him through the doorway, leaving his table of generals standing at attention. He stalked through the sleek black halls of the _Finalizer_ , which was once more the command ship of the First Order's fleet.

He had discovered long ago that he wasn't interested in the minutia of ruling, and had delegated appropriately when he rose to Supreme Leadership. He sensed tension emanating from the command table he had just left. There were fractures in his circle of delegates, he knew it. He decided to let the cracks spread and show where weakness lay, like glass breaking under pressure.

And there had been enough pressure. He felt rudderless: being freed from the direction of his master also meant he had lost his guidance. Stormtroopers had tried deserting, spurred on by increasingly tall tales about the Resistance. The generals sparred over policy whenever they met. And the scavenger, the last Jedi and hope of the Resistance, was still beyond his grasp.

The scavenger. He pressed the button to open the door to his quarters. He didn't want to think of her. Not now, with a raging headache and tiredness he felt in his bones. Kylo Ren sighed and sank to sit on his bed. He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his gloved palm, bent over his knees.

He could feel flits of her here and there, but he hadn't seen her in several weeks. She had interrupted him eating. It had felt strangely intimate, and she had looked at him with pity. They hadn't spoken.

He began to undress, pulling off his boots and cloak, peeling back the layers of Kylo Ren. Where could she be now? He wondered silently. Not dead—he would have felt that, he was sure. He shook his head as he entered the fresher as if to physically dislodge her from the folds of his brain. Wrenching his mind from her, he turned to the issues discussed with his leaders and showered quickly. He dressed for sleep and braided the raven hair at the crown of his head, thinking of the revolts in the Middle Rim. Was Rey there, egging them on?

Kylo Ren drifted off, his thoughts a churning ocean.

Rose pulled Finn into a tight embrace. “We'll see each other soon,” she whispered in his ear. Finn squeezed her tight.

He released her, then grabbed Rey by the shoulders, locking eyes beneath raised eyebrows. “You keep her safe,” he said then hugged her.

Rey pulled back and grinned. “Of course.”

Rose and Rey turned and walked up the ramp of the _Millennium Falcon._ Rose waved farewell as Rey pushed the button to raise the ramp. When the last sliver of their friends disappeared, Rey squeezed Rose's shoulder and giggled, then strode off.

“What?” Rose demanded and followed her to the cockpit.

Rey was in the captain's seat, a knowing smile spreading her freckled face as she started the engines and the _Falcon_ lifted off. “Nothing,” she offered lightly.

Rose's cheeks turned pink. She huffed and sat in the co-pilot's seat.

“Though,” Rey said airily as she faced Rose, the ship rising through the atmosphere, “this _is_ going to be a long trip with just the two of us, so we might as well be honest with each other.”

Rose bit her lip and looked through the windshield, avoiding Rey's elfin gaze. She puffed her cheeks and blew air out her mouth, then stared down and fiddled with her pendant. “Well...”

Then it all tumbled out.

“I kissed Finn on Crait!” she blurted and threw her hands in the air, “And I basically told him I _loved_ him even though we had _just_ met like, half a day before!” She gestured with open palms to one side. “Then I _immediately_ passed out and apparently he visited me every day while I was sedated?” her hands flew to the other side in a mirror gesture, “But also I see the way he and Poe are together—do you see the way Poe looks at him?!—and then I also know you two are so close,” she looked apologetically at Rey and grabbed her hand, “and I don't want to get in your way if you two want to be more than friends, or if you already are..” her voice trailed off and she bit her lip, looking expectantly at Rey.

“I knew it!” Rey screeched, clenching her fists in triumph, then clapping her hands together. “Rose! First off, _no_ , Finn and I are _just_ friends. He is my first friend and my best friend, but just friends. And _yes!_ Poe? I _absolutely_ know what you mean. He's always staring off after Finn with those _eyes._ You know the ones I mean?”

“Yes!” Rose replied, then sighed.

“Oh Rose, I _know_ Finn cares for you,” reassured Rey, as she prepared the _Falcon_ to jump to lightspeed, “and he's also kind of a flirt, so that's probably confusing. But you're such a lovely person, he'd be insane not to want to give it a go!” She side-eyed Rose mischievously and punched the _Falcon_ to lightspeed, then leaned back and kicked her boots up to the dashboard.

“I watched him tuck you in here on the _Falcon_ , after Crait, you know. It was very tender.”

“Really?” Rose's eyes glazed over for a moment, lost in thought, a smile playing at her lips. She blinked, and cocked her head, “but what about you Rey? Is there anyone? You and Connix seem to get along really well?”

“No, no” answered Rey, “I mean, _yes,_ we do get along but just friends. No, there's no one. I mean, there _was_ someone,” she took a sudden interest in picking at her nails. “but he's not here—not part of the Resistance I mean—and I am, and I just don't think we'd have a chance even if this were all over soon.”

“I'm sorry, Rey. It must have been hard to leave someone behind.” Rose rubbed her friend's back sympathetically.

Rey nodded, “Thank you.”

Rose stood and began to exit the cockpit, “I'm going to make sure everything stayed secure when we jumped to hyperspace, then I'm going to see if the drink bar was properly stocked. Want anything?”

“I'll meet you in there in a bit,” Rey answered over her shoulder.

Rey herself had stuck to a beer and had only taken a few contemplative sips, but Rose was absolutely soused by the time she joined her. Rose was so full of life, Rey mused, as the former tittered at the holographic figures on the Dejarik board. Rey admired how she threw herself wholeheartedly into everything she did, even drinking with a crewmate.

 _It must have been hard to leave someone behind._ Rey ruminated on what Rose had said. Yes, it had been hard. She had wanted to take Ben's hand. More than anything. He had literally offered her the galaxy. And belonging. And love. She swirled the drink around her mouth. He hadn't really offered those things. He had dangled them in front of her, impossibly out of reach. She couldn't live with herself if she had accepted ruling at his side. He was selfish and he was thoughtless.

And she was so, so lonely.

She downed the rest of her drink and crushed the canister with her hand. Anger ebbed at her thoughts.

_He lied to you about your parents. He lied to you about what he would give you. You would have been lonelier in riches than in rags on Jakku._

Again Rey watched the ship leave Jakku. She clenched the metal in her hand tighter.

 _A lie. Why would they ever leave you?_ The voice whispered. _They were sold as well. Now dead, yes, but you know there are means to supersede the grave..._

The voice faded away.

“Come on, let's get you to bed,” Rey chided and stooped to help Rose up. Rose stood and slung an arm around her, then nuzzled into her shoulder. They shuffled over to the main hold's bunk, and Rey all but threw Rose in.

“Good night, friend,” said Rey, and tossed the same blanket over her that Finn had not so long ago.

“Aye-aye, Captain,” giggled Rose. Rey patted her head with a smile and quietly left the room.

She padded softly to the crew quarters' closet, where her clothes were stored. She grabbed her sleeping clothes and made her way to the fresher, mulling over what the voice had said. Ben had lied to her, he must have. She who had known no love for most of her life couldn't fathom caring so little about someone to leave them as she had been left. But the voice had said Ben couldn't understand her ache, yet his pain she had felt through their connection before, when he had told her of Luke's betrayal, had been so real. Another lie? Her thoughts muddled under the heat of the showerhead.

She toweled off and dressed quickly. When Rey entered the crew quarters, however, there was already someone there. Her jaw dropped and her used clothes fell from her arms.

Kylo Ren was sitting in her bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Rey was in his room. Kylo was too taken aback to remember to be angry.

Looking him up and down, Rey spoke out of surprise, “did you...did you... _braid your hair?”_

He carded through his hair self-consciously, releasing the plaits. “It's too early for this. What do you want?”

“ _You're_ in _my_ bed _._ _You're_ the intruder here. And besides, that's not how this works and you know that.”

“Well, you're in my quarters. We're both intruding, so call it even.”

Rey crossed her arms. “Why is the Force still connecting us?” she asked the wall. “Snoke is dead. It should have broken the same time his hold on me broke and I fell to the ground.”

“Rey, Snoke lied. This is something else.”

She seemed startled to hear her own name come out of his mouth. She turned to look at him, meeting his dark eyes. “You take after your master then.”

His plump lips pursed as he regarded her.

“I have never lied to you,” he whispered.

She took a step forward and narrowed her eyes, “I _know_ you lied about my parents,” she snarled.

He stood and stepped towards her, his eyes narrowing this time, “you _know_? How do you know?”

Kylo reached out with the Force, expecting her to resist him entering her mind. He gasped when he found her mind defenseless and open as if someone had rudely left the front door ajar.

His eyes widened, the Force hummed, and the bond broke once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think, and I'll be back soon :)


	3. Chapter 3

## Chapter 3

After Snoke's halves had tumbled to the throne room floor, Kylo's thoughts had been his own. But when he had reached into Rey's mind and found it open, there was a familiar aura festering in hidden corners. Her privacy had been violated, her thoughts infiltrated. Kylo saw in her mind what he had felt in his own a thousand times before. Did she know what was happening?

Did he know what was happening?

Kylo glared into the dark eye sockets of the burned mask. Communing with the relic had brought him visions of his grandfather's power countless times before. Sitting before it now, he didn't want to speak.

Memories played before him.

“ _Forgive me. I feel it again... the pull to the light. Supreme Leader senses it. Show me again the power of the darkness, and I will let nothing stand in our way. Show me, grandfather, and I will finish what you started.”_

“ _My worthy apprentice, son of darkness, heir apparent to Lord Vader. Where there was conflict, I now sense resolve; Where there was weakness, strength. Complete your training, and fulfill your destiny.”_

He picked up the mask in his hands. What was his destiny? The Force had bound him to that scavenger, that hopeful Jedi. Was she his destiny?

He turned the mask over in his hands. The resolve Snoke sensed was real; he no longer felt the compulsion to fill Vader's footsteps. Faced with obeying his master and finishing his grandfather's extermination of the Jedi or freeing himself and Rey, he had chosen the latter. Snoke's heel had been on his neck for years. The weight of the Skywalker legacy had yoked him longer. Had he chosen to kill Snoke to unburden himself? Had he done it to save the scavenger? He lifted his eyes, staring off into the distance of his darkened quarters.

Vader's helmet crumpled to dust in his grip.

Navigating the Deep Core was delicate, complicated, strenuous piloting.

Rey couldn't love it more.

She weaved through the densely packed planets, moons, suns, and asteroid fields gracefully. Her face began to ache from smiling. In the co-pilot's seat, Rose's bitten lip and furrowed brow were threatening to become permanent.

“Couldn't we slow down?” shouted Rose.

“Not a chance! We have to keep up our momentum so we don't get sucked into the gravitational fields of other bodies. It's all very densely packed here!” Rey returned gleefully.

“Right, but I don't think we actually have to be going _this_ fast!”

Rey just laughed and slammed the _Falcon_ to the right, nearly throwing both of them out of their chairs.

“Alright, we're approaching Prakith. Get ready to break atmo and slow down real quick!”

The ship crashed into the atmosphere and Rey and Rose flew forward as the ship dragged through the air. The planet below them was swathed in color. It looked like a canvas splattered haphazardly with every color the painter owned. As they grew closer, they could see legions of volcanoes dotting the surface, spewing smoke and ash into the sky. Rey realized the color wasn't afforded by forests and oceans, but by geological formations spanning the visible spectrum. She felt a pull to the planet, to explore, to learn its secrets. Maybe it was a feeling of familiarity; Prakith was a desert planet like Jakku, but she was in awe of its beauty as she had been on Takodana. Prak City came into view, a small metropolis spanning a large plateau. Tiny dots—speeders and cloud cars, Rey realized—zoomed between towers of transparasteel and colored stone, traversing the crevasses of the cityscape.

Rose cleared the ship for landing as Rey directed the _Falcon_ to a platform in the middle of the city.

The _Falcon_ 's ramp opened to a stocky woman dressed in a black suit with crisp lines, framed in steam. General Abbihal Barhcoz, Prakith's de facto leader after the destruction of the Hosnian system, greeted both Rose and Rey with a firm handshake and curt nod.

“General Organa sends her regards and deep appreciation for Prakith's generosity and cooperation in this fight against the First Order,” recited Rose seriously. “I'm Lieutenant Rose Tico, and this is Rey of Jakku, captain of the _Millennium Falcon.”_ Rose inclined her head towards Rey.

“A pleasure to meet with any delegation of Leia Organa. We feel it necessary to lend our hand early,” replied General Barhcoz through thin lips. “Here in the Deep Core, Prakith has always been a stronghold. Experience has taught us, however, that regimes like the First Order are not easily deterred. We fear that by the time they conquer their way to our homeworld, their might will be unstoppable. The people of Prakith are not eager to be beholden to imperialists again.”

The General appraised the two women before her. “Shall we?” She gestured to the building made of red sandstone bricks across the landing pad's walkway.

“The Captain escorted me here at General Organa's behest, though she has business on nearby worlds and will be absent for our debrief. She will return to escort your fleet to the Resistance base.”

“Very well,” answered Barhcoz, “Captain Rey of Jakku, until we meet again.” She inclined her head and turned on her heel. Rose fell into step aside the General. Rey watched the pair bemused, hands resting on her hips, thinking of how well Rose had taken to leadership in the Resistance. Her impressive mechanical skill set, her affability, and the no-nonsense attitude she wielded had made her the perfect candidate to inspect and approve the starfighters and pilots offered by Prakith.

Rey returned to the _Falcon_. The pull she felt entering the planet's atmosphere seemed to drag on her like a parachute as she left it, coordinates set to Tython.

She made planetfall not long after. Tython, Rey thought, is depressing. The Jedi texts had described a verdant planet and an elegant temple nestled in the flora. Instead, Rey found ash. Bones poked up through the blackened debris Rey crunched over, making her way up a large mountainside under a smoky sky. The peaks of the range were daggers through the haze that showed rains had not cleared the air since whatever destruction had ravaged the planet.

She had been too preoccupied with the landing sequence to get a good view of the landscape, but as she climbed further up the cliffs, the terrain below her spread, a vast expanse of burned nothing. Rey reached a plateau, her ship small enough to pinch between her pointer finger and thumb. As far as she could see, the land was rubble.

Rey had come here looking for answers once again. Her trekking became meditative; she let her feet lead her as the Force pulled her along.

Left to themselves, her thoughts always found their way back to _him._ Damn faithless. She wasn't sure if she was cursing him or her mind. She punted a pebble out of her path and down the cliffside.

Why _were_ they still connected? The will of the Force? Maybe it was Kylo's idea of a sick joke.

_“You're not doing this; the effort would kill you.”_

He could be lying about the difficulty. He lied about many things. The bond. Her family. And the feeling they had between them—not the bond, but the warmth. She had never put words to it, and neither had he, but after they touched hands, everything he had begged of her on the _Supremacy_ made it seem like somewhere, he had lied about something else. She felt the anger pulse like lava through her chest, spreading thick and hot, heart pounding.

Remembering her mission here to find the Jedi temple, she began to center herself. She needed guidance there, and for that, she needed to be prepared. Prepared to listen to the light. To listen to the Jedi who had gone before. Rey focused on her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. She focused on her footsteps. Left. Right. Left. Right. Her mind cleared of thought. Left. Right. She plodded on.

The final ascent to the temple was a scrabble. Rey's short nails scraped the unrelenting stone for purchase as she moved cautiously from foothold to foothold. The climb was unintuitive, and Rey relied as much on the Force to navigate it as she had to find her way there. Above her, the sky darkened, clouds gathered above the haze.

Two feet from the top, her sweat-slicked right palm slipped from its hold. The errant arm flew out behind her, pulling her center of gravity with it. Her whole body lurched, throwing her exhausted and trembling legs away from the rock face, leaving her hanging by one hand.

A scavenger, Rey was no stranger to climbing to unforgiving heights. She had been scaling marooned Star Destroyers solo for parts to scrub and sell before she could write, though she supposed that was a little later than most children who learned. Like everything else, Rey had to teach herself.

She gripped the small precipice furiously. She was alone. Always alone. No one to guide her, no one to catch her. What little guidance she had disappeared when Master Luke had gone home to the Force.

But today, at one of the oldest Jedi temples, she had faith the generations that preceded her were waiting. Ready to guide her, the last of the Jedi.

Rey closed her eyes and carefully caressed the granite plane with the toe of her boot, feeling for the outcropping. There. Placing her weight on the hold she had lost, she pulled herself nearly flush to the wall, reaching out with limbs and feelings, inching upwards on minuscule precipices.

At last, Rey hauled herself over the ledge, chest heaving, fingers bleeding. She threw her staff and bag from where they had draped from her shoulders and lay flat on her back. Prostrated and weary, she shut her eyes against the rain that finally began to fall on Tython.

\--

In front of her stood a crumbling building, three connected cylinders. Threads remained of the banners that had flown, hung from the roof. The Jedi temple of Tython had been spared from the flames that destroyed the rest of that world, but only barely. Only a ghost of the former beauty remained. That was fine, Rey thought firmly. She had come here looking for ghosts.

Rey stepped into the birthplace of the Jedi order.

The room smelled of smoke. The air was thick with the ash Rey kicked up as she walked to the center of the rotunda. Legs folded under her, Rey wiped the ground in front of her, revealing a beautiful marble tile. From her bag, she pulled the pieces of Anakin Skywalker's broken and disassembled lightsaber as well as several parts she had guessed she needed from the Jedi text's cryptic texts. The pieces clinked softly as she set them before her.

Palms facing up and resting on her thighs, Rey began to meditate. Light curled around her limbs, softly skimming over her skin, heightening her senses, emptying her thoughts of everything but what she could feel, what she could hear.

Rain dancing on the decaying roof, pattering on the ash and dirt: a baptism of the ruined world. Renewal. New beginnings.

Wind thrumming. Wind swirling through the room, lifting the edges of her hair. Wind overturning the ashes outside, baring the dirt. Preparing the earth for new life.

Peace. Stillness amidst the storm.

“ _Be with me_ ,” Rey invoked, a prayer to the Jedi Masters in the Force. _“Be with me.”_

A humming. Rey smiled softly and exhaled. She felt the light that had caressed her coalesce into a presence.

Finally, a teacher. She opened her eyes.

In full regalia, black from neck to toe, Kylo Ren sat with his eyes closed on crossed legs across the saber pieces.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?”
> 
> “I can show you,” he repeated softly. “How to build a lightsaber.”
> 
> Rey studied his face wearily. Could she trust him? What other option did she have?
> 
> Here, of all places, she should have been able to connect with those who could help. Where could she find the Masters if not in a Jedi temple?
> 
> _It's the Force that connected us._
> 
> Was this the will of the Force or a random moment of connection?
> 
> Their eyes continued the conversation.
> 
> He was maybe the one person left alive that had the knowledge she needed.
> 
> She had been burned by him before. But he had also rewarded her trust in him before; he had destroyed his master with her ( _for her?_ ) and fought alongside her. He had offered her... _oh_ , he had offered her so much. And he had that same look now: wanting to give, needing to take.
> 
> Rey was aching to share a bit of her soul and feel it kept safe. The same ache she saw in him.
> 
> She answered with her eyes before she spoke, boring into his just like on Ahch-To.
> 
> She knew he understood, but voiced it anyway: “Okay.”

A moment from Ahch-To: Huddled around a fire, blanket falling from her shoulders. She stared into his dark eyes made bright by the reflection of the flames. Her heart fluttered as he held her gaze so intensely. She wasn't alone.

She reached across the fire, across space. Her hand burned to be touched.

He reached back.

On Tython, Rey inhaled sharply and stared. Why Kylo? She had crossed the galaxy to commune with her Jedi predecessors here, to learn what the books couldn't convey. Disappointment rose like bile, bitter and sharp. And she had felt _light._

Was it him?

She recoiled at the thought of reaching out, feeling him in the Force, of letting him hurt her again.

His eyes—rimmed with such dark lashes; she had noticed them before—opened slowly under her gaze. They met hers with the same soft intensity that pinned her across the fire on Ahch-To. What blaze illuminated them now?

“ _Rey_ ,” he whispered, leaning forward. It was a step back in time: she was back on that miserable wet island, the quiet pregnant with hope and longing. _You're not alone_.

But that was before the _Supremacy_ , before Crait, before that delicate something they had molded so gently together had been stretched too thin between them both pulling separate ways. She must have looked the same too, but the tears welling in her eyes on Tython stung in a way those on Ahch-To didn't.

Rey squeezed her eyelids together, forcing out the tears, blocking out the image of him. She shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

“No. _Damn it, no_ ,” she croaked into her palms. _“Please._ I need help,” she continued her supplication and her voice broke. “ _I can't do this,_ ” she finished almost silently.

Across the saber pieces, she heard him clear his throat.

“I could help you.”

She wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve, then looked up at him through narrowed eyes.

“ _Switch off_. We're on different sides; you've made that abundantly clear.”

He cocked his head and searched her eyes.

“I'm not sure we are anymore.”

He said it with genuine uncertainty. She continued to glare as he pointed to the space between them with his chin.

“You're working on something. What are you doing?”

“ _Why do you say that?”_

He considered her for a moment, umber eyes flitting between hers. He was still leaning forward.

“Who have you let into your mind?”

Rey's breath stilled. He couldn't know about the voice, about her private thoughts and revelations.

“I haven't _let_ anyone in _._ You and your master _broke in,_ ” she hissed, “and I have been seeking through the Force the guidance of the Jedi that came before. Which is what I was doing when _you_ interrupted, “ she seethed, “and _ruined_ it.”

“It's the Force that connected us,” he responded quietly.

She felt a soft tug at her mind. Kylo's eyes widened slightly.

“You're building a lightsaber,” he breathed.

“Yes,” she answered stiffly. If he could pull that from her mind so easily, there was no sense in lying. But how did he do it? Rey began to chew at her lower lip. Another thing to make her desperately wish her mentor were here, or that he had actually taught her something useful.

Her spiraling worries were cut off.

“I can show you.”

“What?”

“I can show you,” he repeated softly. “How to build a lightsaber.”

Rey studied his face wearily. Could she trust him? What other option did she have?

Here, of all places, she should have been able to connect with those who could help. Where could she find the Masters if not in a Jedi temple?

_It's the Force that connected us._

Was this the will of the Force or a random moment of connection?

Their eyes continued the conversation.

He was maybe the one person left alive that had the knowledge she needed.

She had been burned by him before. But he had also rewarded her trust in him before; he had destroyed his master with her ( _for her?_ ) and fought alongside her. He had offered her... _oh_ , he had offered her so much. And he had that same look now: wanting to give, needing to take.

Rey was aching to share a bit of her soul and feel it kept safe. The same ache she saw in him.

She answered with her eyes before she spoke, boring into his just like on Ahch-To.

She knew he understood, but voiced it anyway: “Okay.”

He nodded.

Both holding their breath, a few moments passed in silence.

Slowly, so slowly, Kylo rose to his feet, stooping as if to make himself smaller. He held up his hands, approaching her as if she were a skittish animal, like he meant no harm. Still holding her gaze, he sank to the floor just to her left, once again crossing his legs. He was angled to be facing both where her broken saber lay and Rey herself. She didn't dare look away. She could feel the heat of him; their knees were practically touching.

He broke the silence first.

“I can't see your surroundings. And I can't see your saber. But I think,” here he took a deep breath, steeling himself, “that if we touch, I'll be able to. Like before.”

“Oh.” She remembers how it had almost seemed as though their contact had pulled him through the light-years between them onto Ahch-To. How he had seen Luke barge in, how Luke had seen him.

She flung her hand towards Kylo, an awkward imitation of how she had reached for him that rainy night. Just as timidly as before though, he removed his leather gloves—both this time—and extended his right hand towards hers. Like before, they hovered just centimeters apart, each nervous to close the final distance between them.

This time when they touched, there was no one to interrupt.

This time, the Force flowed between them with abandon. She could feel, once again, the light in him. The conflict. The sadness, the anger, the pain. This time, the beauty of connection and trust and giving—she was sure he could feel her this way as well—didn't bring tears to her eyes. She felt strength and reassurance. She had given to him and taken from him like this before and he had returned to her again.

And suddenly, she realized how frightening that intimacy was. In a heartbeat, she made to move away, to cut the connection she feared would have the power to break her. His massive hand enveloped hers, seemingly foreseeing her yanking away.

“We need to maintain contact, I think,” he murmured, “for me to stay like this.”

Rey swallowed, mouth dry, and nodded.

Their faces were so close, searching each other. It was the elevator all over again. Watching her, he slowly took her left hand in his. When his right hand fell away, she wanted to reach back and take it, but he was on the move again; still holding her hand, he cocooned himself around her, legs bracketing her small form. Rey's breath hitched as he reclaimed her hand.

They were certainly maintaining contact. She nearly erupted in nervous laughter at the thought.

All traces of mirth evaporated when she felt his breath move past her ear, through the loose hairs that framed her face. “The hilt's trashed. You need a new one.”

“I was planning on cannibalizing my quarterstaff, actually, for that,” she responded, “I set it on the ground just behind...” she had loosed one hand and turned to indicate where she had left her weapon, but trailed off when that brought her face-to-face with Kylo, centimeters apart.

“...me,” she finished breathlessly.

Up close, she could see there were light tawny flecks in his dark irises. Fitting. His beauty marks were constellations and she was getting lost in space. His lips were parted so slightly. He was returning the arm she had broken free from moments earlier to her and she was reaching back and this would be it, _finally—_

Her hand closed on the cold metal of her staff.

“Th-thanks,” she stammered and turned her rapidly reddening face away.

He wrapped around her once more, his breath caressing the side of her face, fingers resting lightly against the backs of her hands.

He was far too comfortable, Rey thought. Was this a regular thing for him, encasing young women with his enormous form, breathing hot on their necks—

“The Jedi,” he interrupted her musings, “invoke an ancient mantra while they build their swords. But it's not necessary.”

His voice deepened, “It's just us now. And you're not a Jedi, are you?”

Rey stiffened under his hold, “I am. The last Jedi.”

“There is no emotion? There is no ignorance?”

She had read the Jedi code in the texts before, but him throwing it back at her made her tremble, made her clench her jaw.

“There is no chaos? There is no death?”

His mouth moved to the shell of her ear. “ _There is no passion?_ ” He whispered, lips brushing her skin. “That's not you, Rey.”

She breathed deeply, staring at the broken saber in front of her. Her knuckles blanched where she gripped her staff.

“Take the staff apart.”

She began twisting and pulling when his fingers wrapped around her wrists. “Not with your hands.”

“Well, I'm not using my _feet_ if that's what you—” she protested.

“Use the Force,” he interrupted gently.

“Oh.”

One hand tugged the staff out of her grip, set it in front of them with the saber pieces, and to Rey's surprise, returned to grasp her wrist.

“Focus,” Kylo's jaw moved against her hairline.

The staff lifted from the ground, the salvaged segments she had carefully arranged and attached undoing themselves. With a sweep of her mind, most of the staff flew across the room and clattered in a dusty corner, leaving a few choice fragments floating. She gathered them in to herself, letting them settle next to the bowels of the Skywalker saber.

She waited, the wordless question hanging in their shared air.

“Surely a scavenger capable of gutting starships to make her own speeder could understand the simple mechanics of a lightsaber?” he muttered. She disregarded the rib. He must have seen that when he'd ripped through her memories, but how much of her did he know?

“I was afraid, without guidance,” she returned quietly, reaching out in the Force to replace the silver tube of a power cell in the old power conductor field with a fresh one she had stolen from a blaster. Atop it, she fitted the crystal mount.

“You don't need someone to teach you,” Kylo said in a low tone, “you'll carve your own way. You already are.”

She focused on the ends of the saber, tearing her mind away from the flexing of his mandible she could feel at the heated side of her face. He was chewing on his cheek, and she didn't want to think about what he was trying not to say.

Concentrating on her weapon, she felt his mind at the edge of hers, prodding her forward. She watched as, at her behest, the activation matrix's jumble of wires met two cycling field energizers, series of coppery cylinders wrapped around what would be the blade's energy channel. One original from Anakin's sword, one she had scrapped together with spare parts at the base. Pieces of the hilt moved to sheathe them. Finally, the kyber crystal rose and settled in the mount, and in one fluid motion, the hilt covered the power source and crystal, attaching the apparatuses for the energy channel at either end. They fused with a hiss, then fell to Rey's open palms.

She turned it over in admiration. It was heavier than its parent, the weight comfortable, a wider girth lent by the quarterstaff pieces and the altered mechanics. She turned her palms down, gripping the saber, and Kylo's fingers fell to her forearms. With the flick of her thumb to rotate the activation matrix, a blue beam emerged from each end.

Rey felt Kylo's deep inhale at her back.

“Saberstaffs were invented by Sith Lords,” he said quietly.

She deactivated her new saber and rolled her eyes.

“And later co-opted by the Jedi. There's nothing inherently dark or evil about a staff.”

He yanked at her arm, facing her towards him.

“There's nothing _inherently evil_ about the dark,” his eyes blazed as he answered, letting the words he had held back tumble out. His hands moved up to crush her bare shoulders, “The dogma of the Jedi is shortsighted and it limits you, Rey. Light and dark are two sides of the same coin; darkness exists because of light. You won't find balance by leaning to one side.”

He paused, biting his lip. His grip on her tightened painfully.

“I meant it; we can bring a new order to the galaxy. An order beyond Sith or Jedi, something balanced in the Force.”

He leaned in further. “Rey, join me. _Please_.”

His eyes were searching hers once again, beseeching.

Another memory: the throne room, burning. Limp Praetorian guards strewed across the floor like forgotten dolls.

_Do you want to know the truth about your parents?_

_Or have you always known?_

His hand extended. Her heart stretched.

_He lied._

As soon as the thought entered her mind, he was there, pushing back with a memory of his own.

It was a vision, stilted and fragmented like when she had first touched a lightsaber on Takodana: a man and a woman passed out on a bottle-strewn floor while a baby cried, flashes of squalor, the same couple yelling, a shuttle filled with dirt-streaked and bony children, credits exchanging hands, a fumbled goodbye...

“ _NO!”_ she wrenched him from her mind with a scream, chest heaving and her forearms pushing back against his unrelenting bulk.

“Rey—,” he started softly.

“ _No_ ,” she whimpered and slammed her fists on his chest.

The blow couldn't have been effectual, but it hit him like a shock. He let go, staring at her as she glared back through tears, her bottom lip trembling.

She didn't see him disappear; she turned and ran, snatching her bag as she sprinted out into the storm. Her legs burned and knees ached as she pounded down the mountainside.


End file.
